When the women’s network Oxygen launched in 2000, like most basic-cable networks it started with a programming mix of whatever it could scrounge up: reruns of old sitcoms, second-rate movies, repurposed shows from other networks. One of the programs that Oxygen picked up was a Canadian show called Sunday Night Sex Show, a call-in advice program hosted by Sue Johanson, whose grandmotherly look and demeanor contrasted with her frank talk about all things sexual. She was like Dr. Ruth without the naughty German accent, and the show proved so popular in its late-night slot that in 2001 Oxygen launched its own in-house version, Talk Sex, so that American viewers could call in with their questions.
Since then, Oxygen has grown in popularity and in the number of households it reaches, and last year it was purchased by NBC Universal. So it’s fitting that Talk Sex aired its last original episode this past week, despite still being Oxygen’s highest-rated late-night program, thanks to its popularity with young viewers. Shows like Talk Sex seem like relics from an earlier day of cable TV, when it was a largely unexplored wasteland of cheap programs originating from odd locales, and when the adventurous (or unemployed) insomniac could stumble on some strange but fascinating program like Talk Sex that seemingly no one else had ever heard of.
Cult programs like ESPN’s coverage of timbersports or Bravo’s Inside the Actors Studio have mostly either faded out or moved into the mainstream as audiences for basic cable increase. But Talk Sex fans have remained under the radar, their love for the show stuck as a dirty little secret. While Loveline host Dr. Drew puts on a serious face as he counsels “famous” people through Celebrity Rehab, Johanson remains genial and friendly and low-key. She encourages rather than lectures. She uses her trusty red and blue dolls, with their many points of articulation, to demonstrate sex positions. She speaks in a matter-of-fact way that is entirely disarming. And she does it all on a show that looks like it costs about $10 (Canadian) to produce.
During Sunday’s final episode, Johanson gave little indication that she was signing off until the very end of the show. She did what she always does, dispensing straightforward advice to callers who were sometimes nervous and embarrassed, but always respectful. She ran through the show’s picks for the 10 best sex toys of the year, describing them with her typical zest. A few callers mentioned that they’d miss Johanson and her show, but she just breezed past that until the final segment, when she got a bit choked up thanking her crew, her viewers and her network for all their support over the years.
Johanson isn’t retiring because she’s lost popularity or because she’s no longer enthusiastic about dispensing sex advice; at 77, she merely no longer has the stamina to stay up until 1 a.m. to produce the live show. Show highlights will continue to be available on Oxygen’s website and via on-demand services from different cable companies. The network will no doubt march on with fancier, glossier programs thanks to its new well-heeled corporate parent, but nothing can replace the slightly illicit thrill of first discovering the nice old lady talking about masturbating on cable at one in the morning.